A War of a Different Kind
by Duath
Summary: After the final battle Harry finds himself in the past. How will Harry cope with having to teach his mortal enemy? And why doesn't this past match his own?


_Disclaimer: I do not own any copyrighted matirial. This is the only time I will state that in this story._

**_Chapter 1; part one_**

Pale moonlight shown down upon the school grounds leaving long shadows. A soft refreshing breeze blew rustling the grass and forming ripples across the pristine lake. It was the perfect example of peace.

Something was wrong.

Albus Dumbledore strode through the giant double doors that served as the entrance to Hogwarts. He wasn't sure what it was that he was sensing but it reeked of power. Power stronger than any he had ever felt before.

What truly disturbed him was that he couldn't tell whether it was pure or corrupt. Most magic had an imprint of how it was used. Dark magic left a stain on any magical essence it touched, while light or pure magic cleansed a magical core.

This one he couldn't sense it's disposition at all. It was a disturbing situation to be in. He had no way of knowing before hand whether it was a threat or not.

He was also unsure if he should investigate it on his own or warn the other teachers. Either way there could be dangerous repercussions. If the power was hostile he would want the others with him, but is not... they might just over react.

Albus Dumbledore carefully made his way across the castle lawn. He would investigate this on his own. Approaching the Forbidden Forest where the power was emanation from he realized that it was wavering. He frowned. What did that mean?

He weaved between the trees. It was close. The power pulsed.

Ge had just passed between two particularly impressive oaks when he saw him. Laying face down in a shallow puddle was an unconscious man.

Albus ran forward and dropped to his knees. Grabbing the man by the shoulders he quickly flipped him over onto his back. It wasn't until he did this that he realized that the puddle had not been of water but blood. A hurried diagnostic charm revealed that he needed immediate medical attention.

Without another thought he slid his arms under the bloody stranger and lifted him, barely registering that the man was far to light to be healthy.

Spinning around Albus sprinted trough the shadowed forest. He hoped he could reach the school in time to help the stranger.

He was climbing the broad steps that lead up to the front door of the school when the man suddenly awoke. Albus continued his rapid pace as the one in his arms stiffened.

Albus came to a halt before the door wondering how he should proceed. Realizing his only option he placed the man down gently on the rough stone platform. He quickly yanked the heavy double doors open.

As he lifted the man he glanced down and nearly got lost in the man's deep green eyes. Eyes the same shade of green as the killing curse.

"Where am I?" Albus nearly jumped at the man's raspy voice.

Rather than answering right away Albus instead rushed through the now open doorway. It wasn't until they were halfway to the hospital wing that he answered.

"You are at Hogwarts. I am bringing you to the infirmary. Those wounds are quite serious."

The man gave a weak nod.

"Hogwarts, that makes sense." He gave a shuddering breath, "Who are you?"

Albus didn't reply as they reached the infirmary. Kicking the swinging door open he called out as loudly as he dared for Madam Bamforth, the nurse.

While waiting for the nurse Albus laid the man on one of the soft yet firm infirmary beds. Knowing that blood didn't respond well to spells he conjured a clean cloth and a basin of water.

After they materialized he began to clean away some of the blood that smeared the man's face.

"I am Albus Dumbledore, transfiguration teacher here at Hogwarts."

The man, who Albus realized was quite young although he couldn't see his features very well, slowly blinked, "Oh," Another blink, "Harry."

Albus's confusion must have shown on his face for the young man began to giggle rather hysterically. "My name is Harry."

Albus smiled kindly, silently asking himself where Ariel Bamforth was. He was just about to go searching for her when she came through the door from her personal chambers.

"Albus, what are - Oh my!" Catching sight of Harry Madam Bamforth's bronze skin became ashen. Rushing over she waved her wand causing all the lights in the infirmary to blaze to life. Harry gave a startled cry and attempted to turn away.

Ariel nearly burst into tears as she saw the serious extent of the young man's injuries. Carefully she and Albus began to remove the young man's shredded, bloody articles of clothing.

After they had removed all of his clothes the grieved nurse cast an advanced sleep charm upon Harry so they could heal him without his body going into shock.

Albus stepped back and watched as Ariel rapidly cast varying healing charms on the lacerations that covered the young man's chest as well as his arms and legs. Seeing that Harry was going to recover he relaxed. The power that he now knew was the man's had settled to a gentle throb.

He shifted to see Harry's face better. The most eye drawing features was the shoulder length rumpled black hair, skin nearly as pale as snow, and a jagged scar that extended from right underneath the man's left eye to the jaw line of his angular, aristocratic face. Now that Albus could see his face clearly he could tell that the man was little more than a seventh year.

Averting his eyes from the boy's face Albus glanced at the boy's chest. Ariel had healed most of the injuries but she could not remove the scars that were left behind from previous wounds. Suddenly Albus realized something.

"Ariel," He paused as she turned and glared at him. "I would like to test and see what spells were used on him."

"Oh," She reluctantly backed away.

Albus stepped forward, with a silent incantation and a wave of his wand golden script formed words above the patient. Slowly the writing began to multiply, each labeling the spells cast upon the boy.

There were dozens, although nearly half they didn't recognize, such as the Cruciatus. But there was one that they knew was impossible.

"Albus," Madam Bamforth said, her voice wavering, "Here isn't any point in this. He - he would be better off dead." She approached the head of the bed and sadly brushed a lock of hair out of his face. "He - there is no way he sill be sane when he awakens."

Albus moved around the bed so he stood across from Madam Bamforth. She was right, no one had ever survived that spell with their minds intact. Yet this young man was capable of speech. Could it be?

"Ariel, would you please remove the sleep charm?"

She stared at him.

"You can't be serious, Albus." Her expression clearly displayed her disbelief. "He would be better off never waking up, you know that."

"Please, Ariel."

She gave a sigh. Carefully waving her wand in a simple gesture over the boy's head Ariel negated the spell. The young man's eyes flickered open.

Albus leaned forward so Harry could see him clearly.

"Child, can you hear me?" He kept his voice low fearing that he would startle the boy.

Harry moaned and brought a hand to his forehead. He scrunched his eyes shut. A few moments passed before he seemed to realize that they were there.

He froze, his eyes wide. Albus gently placed a hand on his shoulder, hoping to calm him.

"Child, do you remember me?" Slowly the boy turned and looked at him.

"Yes," Harry blinked as his eyes slid out of focus. Ariel gasped in shock, causing the boy to jump. He snapped to attention. "You're Albus Dumbledore."

Albus smiled, "Yes, very good. Do you remember where you are?"

Another nod, "Hogwarts."

"Do you remember what happened to you?"

The boy abruptly turned his head away with a whimper. He wrapped his arms around his abdomen in a defensive manner. His face had lost what little color it had.

Ariel, seeing the boy's distress jumped to his aid.

"Albus, let the boy be. Can't you see that he's upset?"

Albus backed down. He hadn't meant to hurt the child. He removed his hand from Harry's shoulder to brush the boy's hair out of his face.

"I'm sorry, child." He glanced at the nurse. "I should probably go inform the headmaster of our visitor. I shall return tomorrow to see how he is doing."

At Ariel's nod he swiftly strode from the room. As he headed toward the headmaster's office he allowed his mind to wander.

Who was that boy and how did he come to be here? There was no doubt that Harry was the one radiating the power he had felt earlier. What had happened to him?

Before he realized it he found himself standing in front of the headmaster's office at the top of the spiral stairs. He didn't even remember giving the password to the statue.

He rapped sharply on the door knowing that as late as it was Dippet would most likely be there. Sure enough, not five seconds later Albus was given permission to enter.

Stepping through the doorway Albus saw that Dippet was sitting at his desk behind a massive pile of paperwork. Looking up from the parchment he was writing on the headmaster gave him a sour look of someone who had gotten very little sleep over a long period of time.

"This had better be good, Dumbledore." He ground out. "I've enough work as it is and we still don't have a Defense teacher. Merrythought chose a horrendous time to retire. Anyone who is qualified to teach is needed for the war."

Albus sighed weakly. This. Again.

"There is something you should be aware of. About an hour ago there was a flux of power."

"I was not informed of this." Dippet said, "The wards didn't-"

"I don't know why the wards did not warn you, but I sensed this, so I went to investigate." Albus, seeing that the headmaster was about to interrupt quickly but him off. "I know it was foolish to not tell you or any of the other teachers. I freely admit that. I have no acceptable excuse for that.

"I found the source of the power. It was a boy, I found him in the forest."

"A boy?" The headmaster finally set down his quill and turned his full attention upon the auburn haired teacher.

"Yes. He was gravelly injured but Ariel now has him in stable condition. He told me that his name is Harry. I don't know how old he is. He looks young, around sixteen, but that doesn't feel right."

"One moment, Albus." Dumbledore sighed at the sudden change in the use of his first name. Dippet only did that when he wanted something. "How strong was this power you felt?"

Albus inwardly scowled. That was it. Now came the question of whether he should tell or not. Better to stick with the truth here. Lies would be too easy to reveal.

"I've never felt anything like it. I don't think even Grindelwald has that much magical energy."

He saw Dippet pale.

In public Armando Dippet was a kind, devout headmaster, but in truth he sought power, craved it. He cared only for himself. Sometimes Albus wondered if he was the only one to realize that. It was the same with Riddle.

Dippet was clearly already thinking of ways to use the boy to his advantage.

"When do you think he will be recovered?"

"I'm not a healer so I don't know for certain, but probably by the end of the week."

Dippet frowned, "I'll go down first thing tomorrow and see how he is doing." He gave Albus a nasty glare. "Now as you can see I have paperwork that needs to be done by the end of the night."

The transfiguration teacher rose to his feet. "I'll see you at breakfast tomorrow, headmaster."

Without waiting for a response he turned his back on Dippet and swiftly exited the room. That man should never have come to Hogwarts.

Instead of going to his rooms he returned to the hospital wing. He needed to warn Ariel.

Entering the wing he collided with a short, slight figure.

"Albus, grab him!"

Reflexively he took a gold of the boy's narrow shoulders. Glancing down at the struggling youth he suddenly realized how small he was.

Ariel had managed to heal all of his injuries. Harry was now wearing a white robe, the same as all the other hospital robes that any student that has stayed the night would don.

"Let me go!" The boy tried to tare away from his captor.

Albus, feeling uncertain of what he should do, tightened his grasp on the boy. Ariel appeared, seemingly from out of nowhere, behind the boy and began to try and convince him to come back to bed.

Harry clearly wasn't listening as he proceeded to attempt to bite Albus's arm. Albus, deciding that enough was enough lifted the young man off his feet causing him to let out a squawk of surprise.

Placing Harry on the bed Albus's glare was sufficient enough to keep him from making another break for freedom. The boy scowled and shifted so he was sitting at the head of the bed, his legs crossed and folded.

"Now Harry," Albus began. Ariel slowly moved toward the bed. "mind telling us why you wanted to escape so badly?"

Harry blushed slightly, but as pale as he was it looked as though someone was shining a red light upon his face. It was rather disturbing.

"Well," he started, his voice sounded like his throat had been rubbed down with sand paper, or screamed himself horse."I really dislike hospitals." Ariel huffed in indignation. "It has nothing to do with the people there. I just have some horrible memories."

Albus nodded, that made sense. After everything that had happened in this war Albus, himself, didn't enjoy being in hospitals much either.

"I can understand that."

The young man gave a sad smile. Ariel suddenly spoke up.

"Albus, why are you back?" She cocked her head to the side in confusion. "I thought you were speaking to the headmaster and then head off to bed."

"There was a change of plans." He cringed as he remembered his discussion with said headmaster. "Ariel, I would be grateful if you didn't tell him the full extent of Harry's injuries. Dippet is already trying to find ways to use the boy for his own purposes."

"'Harry' is here and he is fully capable of hearing you." The boy smirked as they jumped, having forgotten that he was indeed there. Albus smiled at him kindly. Harry's smirk turned into a frown of annoyance.

"Yes, Albus. I won't tell him everything." He nodded his thanks for her cooperation.

"Harry," the boy raised an eyebrow in question. "I would like to ask you a few things, if you don't mind."

"Depends on what they are" Harry's face was tense. It hurt Albus to see one so young with so much suspicion.

"As you wish." Albus paused to take a breath, "I would like to know your full name, your age, and where you are from."

The boy gave a falsely sweet smile.

"Harry, nineteen, very far away.

"No last name?" Albus cocked an eyebrow. He received a blank stare in return.

"None I wish to be connected to."

Albus's other brow rose. Now why would that be?

"From a dark family?" Harry's face lost all vestiges of emotion. "If that is so you need not worry about hiding it from me. I will not judge you for it."

Harry relaxed slightly. "That's not it, not really. My father was a was a pure-blood and my mother was a witch from a long line of squibs." He cringed, "There was a magical disruption a few years back and I ended up taking my mother's ancestor's name."

Albus nodded, "Antiquus Nomen, translated 'Old Name.'"

"You are quite knowledgeable," Harry seemed to attempt to smile but it turned into a grimace. "Yes, Antiquus Nomen."

"Wait a moment," the two men jerked around startled to look at Ariel. "What spell is this?"

Albus and Harry glanced at each other.

"Should I explain?" Harry asked. He didn't even wait for an answer. "The Antiquus Nomen is a complicated spell used to find out the magical ancestry of a person from a single parent. Unfortunately as well as showing who the person's most recent magical ancestor, a side from the parent, it also changes the person's family name to match said ancestor."

Ariel's brow creased as she wrinkled her nose. "Well it's just symbolic, right? So couldn't you just continue going by your father's name?"

Harry shook his head, his rumpled wavy hair swinging back and forth.

"It doesn't work that way, Ariel." Albus remarked. "The change is in more than name. It changes a person's magical signature."

Ariel gasped. Albus nodded, such a thing was nearly unheard of, and very dangerous.

"What was your name changed to?"

Harry shifted nervously.

Albus watched him carefully for a sign of what he was thinking. The boy gave very little away. He seemed to be recovering well, especially considering the nature of the spells used on him. Suddenly Albus realized why.

"Slytherin."

The two adults blinked as they came out of their own thoughts.

"What was that, child?" The boy couldn't have said what Albus thought he heard.

"Slytherin." Harry whispered. He closed his eyes as if he was afraid to see their reactions.

Albus didn't understand. How could he boy be related to the Slytherins? The last blood relatives were the Gaunts and the Riddle boy. Then again, maybe Harry's blood line branched off from that before their name changed.

He glanced over at Ariel who seemed to be in a state of shock. Her bronze skin had gone ashen and her eyes had gone so wide that he could see the whites all the way around her irises. He knew how she felt, he probably looked the same.

"Child," Harry turned away from him, "Child, look at me."

At the soft command the boy faced him but kept his eyes fixed upon the blanket bunched up around where his ankles crossed.

Albus reached out and gently gripped the boy's chin and forced him to look up.

"I am not going to hate you, child." He tried to keep his voice calm knowing that Harry needed to be put at ease. It wasn't good for his currant emotional state to constantly be on the defense.

"Why not?" The boy glared at him accusingly.

Albus sighed in exasperation. He wouldn't get anywhere at this time.

"I am not going to argue over this now." He released Harry's chin and rose from the stiff infirmary chair. "You need to get some sleep, it's going to be a long day tomorrow."

He walked around Harry's bed and placed a hand on Ariel's shoulder causing fer to startle.

"Come Ariel, we should leave him to rest, it is quite late." He pulled out a pocket watch and flipped it open, "Or rather early."

Ariel nodded and after rising to her feet proceeded to shoo Albus form the infirmary.

Albus, knowing that she probably wanted to give Harry another quick examination quietly left the room. Rather than leaving for his chambers he waited patently outside the doors. Ariel would be out shortly.

He had only been standing there five minutes when his thoughts were interrupted by the nurse carefully opening the infirmary doors. She jumped slightly when she caught sight of him.

"Albus," She whispered, "I thought you left."

He smiled weakly.

"Madam," He responded, hoping she would pick up on the use of her professional title. By the crinkles forming between her eyebrows, she did. "I wanted to hear your opinion on young Harry's health."

"Well," She paused to formulate her answer. "He seems to have recovered in body at the least, but..."

"But?"

She wrapped her arms around her middle as if a sudden chill had swept through the hall.

"He didn't act like someone who was just tortured extensively. I don't want him to be a emotional wreak but to be like this..."

"I know what you mean." Albus waved an arm, gesturing down the hall toward her personal chambers. "You are right, of course, it isn't natural."

Ariel was watching her feet as they began walking. Her entire posture screamed of worry.

"Do you have any idea what's wrong with him?" Her voice broke as if she was trying too hard to keep it even.

"Yes, I do." He sighed, it was the only thing that made sense. "I believe that he has pushed the entire matter out of his mind. You know, willful forgetting."

She nodded.

"But he doesn't seem like the type to just ignore his problems. He probably is waiting until he feels safe or perhaps talking to us was all that kept him from breaking down."

Ariel nodded once more.

They came to a halt at a plain ash door. Ariel pulled out her wand and undid the wards that kept students away.

"You should head to bed yourself, Albus. If you aren't fully rested tomorrow the headmaster will stomp all over you, not to mention the students."

Albus chuckled and bid her goodnight.

When the door had shut he made his way to his quarters.

Even after he had gotten into his bed his mind refused to allow him to sleep. Who exactly was that boy and why was he here at Hogwarts? How could one person have so much power? How did he end up so injured?

One thing was for certain, Harry Slytherin was a mystery.

Albus sighed.

Why couldn't we have a normal year here?

* * *

_"Killing is not nearly as easy as the innocent believe..."_

_"Avada Kadavra."_

_"Lily, take Harry and run."_

_"Kill the spare."_

_"You dare use my own spells against me, Potter? It was I who invented them -- I, the Half-Blood Prince!"_

_"Please, not Harry."_

_"Ramicna."_

_"It is my mercy, and not yours, that matters now."_

_"Looks like you got the rest of your family killed, Potter."_

_"Plead, Potter. Just like your filthy, mudblood mother."_

_"It hurts."_

_"Severus."_

_"Ramicna."_

_"Ron!"_

_"Mother, please help me. It hurts."_

_"Hermione, no!"_

_"Scared, Potter?"_

_"You're nothing but a weakling."_

_"Ramicna."_

_"You're hurt, Malfoy. Let me help you."_

_"Help me, mother."_

_"Die, Potter."_

_**"STOP IT!"**_

Harry's eyes shot open. Blinding light forced him to close them again. He rolled over and fell out of bed with a near silent squawk.

Scrambling into a defensive crouch he squinted to see his surroundings.

What the-?

How did he end up in the hospital wing at Hogwarts?

It looked different then he remembered. It was still white but there was splatters of color all around, pictures, portraits, and wall hangings. All the furniture was the same or similar thought they weren't all in the same places as last time.

It smelled different too. It used to smell like antiseptic, now it resembled mint.

And stew.

Still watching for any threats he followed his nose. At the end of the ward, on a small table by the door was a large pot of beef stew. In front of the only chair was a bowl and spoon.

His stomach gave a loud rumble. He couldn't remember the last time he had any substantial food.

Harry had just reached out to remove the top of the pot when a woman with bronze colored skin and dark brown hair entered through the swinging double doors. He froze unsure of what to do.

"Ah, you're awake." She seemed pleasantly surprised at that. "I had expected you to be asleep for some time yet."

Harry stared at her. He felt like he had met her but he couldn't remember/ The last few months were mostly a blur.

While all this was passing through Harry's mind the woman had begun scooping some of the stew into the bowl and set it on the table. After seeing he wasn't going to move on his own she took a hold of his arm and lead him to the chair.

Once Harry was seated he slowly focused on the present. He carefully began eating.

"Stew may not be a very good breakfast but at this time it's probably the best thing for you."

Harry didn't bother looking up as she talked. It was an old defense of his that he had used at the Dursley's. If you don't know what's going on keep quiet and let people talk, you'll usually find out what you need. This had only been reinforced as he grew older.

"You were rather lucky Albus found you and got you here in time." Harry blinked but allowed no other sign that he was surprised. Now he was even more confused. "If he hadn't brought you, you probably would have died within the hour."

Harry continued to methodically shove stew into his mouth as he though. Could it be? Albus Dumbledore was dead. Unless...No Dumbledore said that there was no spell to bring back the dead. But then it had to be... He shook his head slightly. He had no proof of that despite the fact that it was the only thing that made sense.

But then there was that strange spell Voldemort cast just before Harry killed him. Maybe it was-

"If you keep eating like that you're going to make yourself sick."

He jumped and swung around.

Standing right inside the doorway was Albus Dumbledore. A young Dumbledore. He looked the same as he did in Voldemort's diary, although his hair had started to gain some silver strands.

Harry stared at him. Suddenly all the memories of the previous night came back in full. From his appearance in the Forbidden Forest to explaining his name to the two present adults.

"You," Harry stopped. What was he supposed to say? You can't be here 'cause I saw you die when I was sixteen? Certainly not. "You were the one who found me. You look different."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows in question. Harry blushed slightly. He hadn't meant to say that as it had mote to do with how he looked when he was an old man.

"I wasn't exactly thinking strait last night."

Dumbledore nodded in acceptance. Harry watched as the older man conjured a second chair and place it next to his own.

"Ariel, would you mind if I could speak with Harry alone?" Harry tried to hold back a snicker. Dumbledore had just abouttold her to back off. He had missed Dumbledore's ability to make peopledo what he wanted. How he managed to do it so politely was a mystery.

The lady, Ariel, didn't look too happy but she left anyway.

"Wish I could do that." Harry laughed.

"Glad you approve." Dumbledore said. "I have a few questions I would like to ask you."

Harry smirked. "I was just about to say the same thing."

"Oh," Dumbledore responded. "Well ask away."

Harry sighed. If his hypothesis was correct he would need some help getting back home and Dumbledore was his best option. If he didn't write him off as insane first.

"This will probably sound strange," Harry took a deep breath. "What year is it?"

Harry had to give Dumbledore some credit, aside from the widened eyes he hid his shock quite well."

"It is September 2, 1943."

Harry blinked, "That makes sense."

"Mind explaining?" Dumbledore asked.

"I'll be blunt," Harry stated. There was no point in running around in circles about it. "I'm from the future."

If the situation wasn't so serious the look of total shock on Dumbledore's face would have sent him into hysterics.

* * *

The dungeons were quiet this early in the morning. No natural light made it's way down there. The Slytherin common room was empty except for one student, and he preferred it that way. 

Tom Riddle stared into the newly fed fire that flickered in it's grate. Tom was a handsome boy with his sharp features and stylish black hair. Not only that but as a sixth year prefect he had power. But all that power wouldn't help him now.

Why did Merrythought retire so soon? She couldn't have waited? If she had retired even just a few years from now he could have applied for the DADA job. Now they would get another useless teacher and he would have to wait until he or she left.

Who was going to be the new teacher? All the ones with any skill were needed for the war with Grindlewald. This year was not going to go well.

"Tom?" Came a tiered voice from the passage to the boy's dorms. "You up already?"

"Obviously, Malfoy."

"Why do you get up this early in the morning?"

"To prepare for your constant nagging." Malfoy gave an indignant sniff.

"Dippet said that the old lady left. I wonder who will take her place. You have good connections, do you know, Tom?"

Tom clenched his teeth. Did it look like he knew? He thought of throwing a curse at Malfoy. He needed some way of working out his stress.

Today wasn't going to be a good day.

* * *

_AN: I decided to leave it here for now. This is only half of the chapter but I realized that it would be best to end it right now. Originally this was just going to be a filler to help me get some inspiration, it didn't work out the way I intended. It's already longer than all my other stories, I just need to type it up. Hope you like it._


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